


Thoroughly Modern Stiles

by RunningErrands



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Thoroughly Modern Millie - All Media Types
Genre: Allison and Stiles are buddies, Derek is Jimmy, Derek is kind of OOC, F/M, M/M, Stiles is Millie, Thoroughly Modern Millie AU, Underage Drinking, but not too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningErrands/pseuds/RunningErrands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feisty young Stiles plans to find a job and marry a wealthy employer. Though fond of penniless paper-clip salesman Derek, he's determined to marry well-heeled company man Isaac Lahey, who loves Stiles' roommate Allison Argent. As all four try to find love, evil landlady Jennifer Blake schemes to sacrifice the orphaned Allison Argent in her evil schemes.</p><p>(I literally took the summary for Thoroughly Modern Millie and just tweaked it a little.)  </p><p>Scott is Columbian and being forced to work with Jennifer, Lydia is the CFO to Isaac's company, and Laura Hale is a badass, as per usual.</p><p>(Endgame Sterek and Scallison.  You don't have to know Thoroughly Modern Millie to enjoy.  :)  I just took the idea of the plot and switched some stuff around to make it more Teen Wolf friendly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea was floating around in my head for a while, and I finally decided to make it a reality! Let's hope it panned out well in writing just as well as it panned out in thought! Sorry to kind of leave it at a cliff hanger. (ish?) 
> 
> Once again, still really new to this whole writing fanfiction thing! Any comments, concerns, and constructive criticisms would be most welcome! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

            “Holy fuck.”  Stiles breathed as he stepped off of the train and into Grand Central Station.  He set down his two suitcases and pulled out his camera, squinting up at the details etched into the high ceilings.  He snapped a quick shot, then turned, getting more and more excited as he filled his camera with pictures of the beautiful architecture.  Sure, it kind of sucked that there were people in every single direction, but you win some, you lose some, right?  Stiles sighed and tucked his camera away before reaching down for his bags.

            “What?”  He felt his stomach drop rapidly when he felt for the handle of the practically antique suitcase he’d brought.  He looked down and was just about ready to cry already when he confirmed that there was no cracked leather by his feet.  He looked around frantically, trying to spot it, and feeling his stomach twist when all he could see were bodies, tirelessly walking to catch trains, some tourists taking pictures like he had just a minute ago. 

“Oh well.  I guess aunt Carmen can’t really miss her suitcase from beyond the grave, right?”  Stiles muttered under his breath, picking up his other suitcase that was thankfully still there.  “Joke’s on you buddy.  All you’re going to get in there is a bunch of plaid shirts, and my underwear.”

            Stiles stepped out of the station, and was once again shell shocked as he stared up at the buildings.  The highest building in Beacon Hills, the poor little farm town it was, was the five-story Red Roof Inn across the highway.  This was where Stiles wanted to be, not living in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, and training to be one of his dad’s doughnut eating deputies, barely making it through their mortgage.  No.  Stiles was prepared to do what it took to end up not ever having to worry about money.  If that meant that he had to marry rich, so be it. 

            For now though, Stiles was mostly concerned about eating something.  The train line had been long, and ramen noodles wasn’t on Stiles’ list of must try foods in New York.  It wasn’t exactly hard to find a hot dog stand in New York City.  Stiles ordered his food and pulled out his wallet.  “Here, uh, gimme’ a sec.”  He mumbled, digging through his bag for his phone, not remembering where he had last seen it.  He grabbed it with a sigh of relief, looking back up at the vendor just as a short kid grabbed Stiles’ wallet right out of his hand.  “Thief!”  Stiles yelled, chasing after the kid, panic surging through him once again.  “Someone help me!  That kid’s got my wallet!”  Stiles grew angry as all the people around him just kept walking.  He stuck out his leg on a whim, tripping the next person who tried to walk by.

            “What the?  Learn to share the sidewalk!”  A voice growled.

            “Oh no, I meant to trip you!”  Stiles scowled, crossing his arms and refusing to go back on his attitude, despite the fact that the man he had happened to trip was freaking gorgeous.

            “Seriously?  What’s wrong with—“ 

            “You’ve got to help me!  That kid just ran off with all my fucking money!”  Stiles seethed.  “What’s the matter with you people!  Can’t someone pay any attention to me?  I needed help!  I still need help!”

            The gorgeous man rolled forest green eyes. 

            “You’re in New York City now.  I know in hick-ville, people probably helped each other all the time, and you had barbecues, and all traded chicken eggs for bottles of milk, and all of that, but you’re not living with your mom anymore kid, learn to take care of yourself, because in this town, nobody’s going to do it for you.  Either grow up, or go back to gopher-ville or wherever.”  The guy scowled, marring his attractive face.  “Now, I have an actual life to live, so…”  The guy saluted sarcastically and walked briskly in the opposite direction.

            “Well, fine!  I can do just fine on my own then!  Asshole!”  Stiles spat, turning around and marching back to his luggage and the confused vendor.  He vehemently refused the hot dog the man tried to offer him for free, seething at the gorgeous stranger’s ugly attitude and bad manners.  It didn’t help that the comment about his mom struck a pretty low blow. 

Stiles wandered away from the vendor, slowly calling his bank to freeze his accounts.  He ended up on a park bench in a little grassy area, one hand cradling his phone, and the other firm on his remaining suitcase. 

“Maybe that asshole was right.  Maybe New York just isn’t for me.”  Stiles sighed, leaning back and looking at a pigeon perched atop a nearby light pole.  “I mean, look at me.  I’ve got nothin’.”  Stiles chuckled tiredly.  The pigeon hopped toward Stiles expectantly, eventually flying down from his perch to get even closer to Stiles. 

“Didn’t you hear me?  I don’t have anything to give you…”  Stiles trailed off quietly, a small smile finally coming across his face.  “You know what?  I may have nothing, but that also means that I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”  He grinned.  “I mean, except my life, but, you know.  Whatever, right?”  He chuckled.  “Who knew pigeons were so smart, huh?”  He rolled his eyes, mentally reminding himself that if anyone saw him talking to a pigeon, he’d be ruled as either drunk or insane before he could get his first interview.

“Well, looks like I’m off to get my room, huh.”  Stiles sighed, standing up and pulling his suitcase close.  “Seeya pigeon.  Maybe I’ll have something for you next time.”  He smiled, before beginning the long walk toward the Blake Apartment Complex.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

            Jennifer Blake was a simple woman.  She wanted what everyone else wanted, fame, fortune, some attractive arm candy, the typical good life.  Of course, somehow, she had never thought that her dream would transfer into running a dingy apartment complex, collecting rent every week, and dealing with noise complaints. 

            She was jolted out of her thoughts when one of her boarders ran into the room, waving a newspaper.  “Guys!  Look at this!  Isn’t it insane?!” 

            “Ooh, Kim and Kanye?  I didn’t—“

            “No, not that you dimwit!  The human sacrifice story!”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

            Of course it would happen that the first words that Stiles would hear when he walked into the Blake Apartment Complex were “Human Sacrifice.”

            “Seriously!  The police are working on a case, evidently all the bodies that have been found were of people who had no family to keep track of them!”  A young girl squealed, shaking the newspaper anxiously.

            “Oh, well, that’s just awful.”  The woman at the desk sympathized.  “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to not have anybody in the world.”  She sighed.

            Stiles stepped into the building completely, a little sheepish. 

            “Um, Hi.”  He waved.  “I’m Stiles.  I called about a room a couple weeks ago, and I made the down payment?” 

            “Right, right.”  The woman at the desk nodded, smiling and sifting through some papers on her desk.  “I’m Jennifer Blake, you can call me Jen.”  She was a pretty young woman, with a little bit of a lilting accent indicating that she was probably from the south.  “Okay, then if I can just get your first month’s rent, you can go on up and settle in.”

            “Oh, well…”  Stiles scratched the back of his neck.  “You see, my wallet was kind of stolen on the way here.”  He admitted.

            “What?”  Jenifer Blake’s smile faded surprisingly quickly.  “Well, that is unfortunate, but if you cannot pay your first month’s rent, then I cannot let you take the room.  Come up with your money, and come back, then we’ll talk.”  She frowned disappearing behind a door marked ‘employees only.’

            Stiles turned to ask the girls who had been lounging around the lobby if Jennifer was always like that, but sighed when he realized that they must have all left when Jennifer had started to get visibly upset. 

            “Welp.  Looks like I’m looking for a homeless shelter for tonight.”  Stiles sighed, picking up his bag and making to turn to leave.  Just as he was about to leave, the front door opened.

            “Um, hello?”  A pretty, dark haired girl stepped into the lobby.  “I was here to see about the new vacancy, the sign just lit up minutes ago….” 

            “Well, don’t believe everything you read.”  Stiles huffed, a little defensive of his spot.  “As soon as I can get money out of my bank account, I’ll be taking that room.”  He insisted.  “I don’t know why you’d want to live here anyways.”  He crossed his arms.  “The management’s mean, the rooms are practically stifling, and the water’s always cold.”  He fibbed.

            “Perfect.”  The girl smiled, setting her bag down.

            “W-what?”  Stiles asked in confusion, looking the girl over.  She didn’t seem like she was the kind of girl who would need to stay in a run down apartment complex like this.  He shook his head.  “Well, you’re out of luck sister, there’s only one apartment for rent, and it’s mine, so unless you want a roommate…actually…you need a room, I need the rent...I guess we could room together for a night or two while I get my money together…”  Stiles offered cautiously, sizing up the girl in front of him.  She didn’t look like too much trouble, but you could never be too sure, especially in New York City.

            “Hmmm…”  The girl deliberated.  “Well, okay.”  She agreed, looking Stiles over.  “Just so you know, I do know three different kinds of martial arts, and I sleep with knives.”  She shrugged casually.

            “Wait, really?”  Stiles ask, eyebrows raised.  “I’m a guy, shouldn’t you at least be a little wary of me?”  He asked incredulously.

            “Well, you’re gay, so it shouldn’t be a problem right?”  She figured, rolling her eyes.,

            “Well, technically yes, but I mean…how would you know for sure?”  Stiles rolled his eyes.  “It’s kind of a lot of faith in your gay-dar that you have there…”

            “I know, but it hasn’t ever failed me before.”  She winked.  “I’m Alison.  I’m here to get a look at how the other half of Manhattan lives.” 

            “What exactly do you mean by that?”  Stiles asked cautiously.  “What is the ‘other half’ that you’re talking about?  Is there like a secret city under New York that you grew up in or something?”

            “No!”  Alison giggled.  “I’m talking about social classes.”  She explained, rolling her eyes.  “I grew up in the high class society of New York City, so now I’m here to check out the ‘other half.’” She explained.

            “Ugh, if I were you, I’d never leave high society.” Stiles rolled his eyes.  “Struggling with money is not fun, and you shouldn’t treat it like it’s a game.  You should be thankful for what you have, and help others.”  Stiles frowned.  “Just pretending to be poor is kind of insulting actually.”

            “No!  I didn’t mean for it to be.  I promise, I don’t have any access to money outside of my rent money and about 300 extra dollars.  I’m going all in.”  She explained firmly.  “I’m doing this to gain my own independence, not as a sort of game or anything.”  She insisted.

            “Oh.”  Stiles hummed, thinking.  “Well, I guess it’s less insulting if it’s a personal discovery trip.”  He nodded, before rolling his eyes again.

            “Oh my god!”  Allison groaned.  “My point is that I’m looking for real relationships, based on personality and trustworthiness, not money.  I’m sick of being handed everything, and having all my friends turn out just to be after my family’s money!”  She insisted. 

            “Ok.”  Stiles nodded, smiling a little.  “I guess that’s definitely a better reason that a mission of personal discovery: living with the filth of New York City!  Coming to TLC in March of 2016!”  He laughed.

            “Good.  I’m glad you get it.”  Alison smiled.

            “You know what?  You’re not too bad.  I think that rooming together will work out just fine.”  Stiles smiled, hooking arms with Alison.  “Let’s go get settled.  We can come back down after to pay Jennifer, the landlady.  Hell, while we’re living together, if all you have if $300 in the bank, then I can definitely teach you to eat on 20$ a week.”  Stiles boasted.  “Something that after I get married I hope to never have to do again!” 

            “Oh!  Are you engaged?”  Alison asked with a smile.  “How romantic!”

            “No…not yet at least.  But I’m going to marry my boss.”  Stiles beamed.  “That way I’ll never be short on money again!”

            “Oh…is he handsome?”  Alison asked, a little uncomfortable.

            “I dunno’.”  Stiles shrugged.  “I don’t actually have a job yet.  I’ve got a ton of interviews tomorrow though.” 

            “Oh…well, in that case, I’ll teach you how to interact with high society then, if you teach me how to make the best of a bad financial situation.”  Alison nodded.  “A fair trade, right?”

            “Stiles, right?”  Jennifer Blake stepped out of her office just as Stiles and Alison had started to approach the elevator.  “Who is your friend here?”  She asked, a smiled on her face once again.

            “Well, this is Alison.  We just met!  Looks like we’re rooming together so that we both have a chance here!”  Stiles grinned smugly.

            “Oh nonsense!”  Jennifer smiled, putting a hand on Alison’s shoulder.  “There’s no need to double up!  A room just opened up, poor girl checked out just this morning, looks like she’ll be going home.”  Jennifer shook her head.  “But I guess that’s just what happens to a lot of actresses who try to make it on Broadway.”  She shrugged.  “Anyways, I’ll escort you two up to your rooms, we’ll sort out payment details at dinner tonight, yes?”  
            “Wait, me too?”  Stiles asked suspiciously. 

“Yes, I’ve changed my mind.  Since you’ve already paid the down payment, you’re allowed to pay rent late once, and I’ll count this as the one time you can pay it late, sound good?”  She smiled.

“S-sure.”  Stiles nodded, remembering not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Good!  Good!  You two go freshen up then!  Dinner’s at eight.”  She smiled, ushering them toward the elevator.  “I’ll see you two then!  Bye!”  She waved, waiting until the elevator doors were closed to drop her smile.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

 

            “Well there Gina.”  Jennifer smiled at the girl inside the circle of candles and herbs.  “Thank you so much for choosing Blake Apartment Complex.  Really helped me out a lot.”  She chuckled as she moved forward, placing the silver knife on the skin of the crying girl’s neck.  “This is exactly what I needed.”  She smiled, slicing quickly through the girl’s jugular vein.  “Makes me feel young again.”  She hummed, taking a handful of blood and drawing several runes with the red liquid.  “I mean, I think I look great for 240, don’t you?  It’s all in the diet.”  She chuckled as she put her lips to the dying girl’s jugular vein, drinking her fill, until all that was left was a pale corpse.  Jennifer wiped her lips.  “Thanks Gina.  I always did like going to lunch with you.”  She quipped, her eyes flashing dull silver.  She cleaned her knife on the dead girl’s clothes, and stood, returning to her office and shutting the door to the back room.

            “Scott.”  She barked, summoning over a tanned young man with dark curls framing his face.  “We’re starting room service, okay?”  She smiled wickedly.  “Our new boarder is used to the nicer things in life, so we’ll deliver her an absolutely beautiful meal.  I’m thinking maybe some braised beef, mashed potatoes…and chloroform of course.”  She chuckled. 

            The young man hesitated.  “¿En español?” 

            Jennifer groaned in frustration, picking a Spanish-English dictionary.

            “Usted….traiga Miss Allison…alimento y…secuestre.”  She pecked out slowly, looking up at Scott for clarification.

            “¿Secuestre?”  The boy asked quietly.  “You is…going to…kill her?” 

            “Si.”  Jennifer laughed cruelly, ignoring the hesitation on the boy’s face.  “Oh don’t worry, I won’t make you do the fun part.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

 

            Stiles left for his sixth job interview with much less gusto than the first five.  Every interview was a bust.  All the bosses were either female, married, or absolutely disgusting.  This interview with Isaac Lahey was his last chance.  It was this, or back to bumfuck.

            Stiles entered the building hesitantly, looking up at the high ceilings, painted with rich colors.  This was his kind of job.  He approached the counter and rang the bell.  He was just about to leave to find someone else to help him when a pretty redhead popped up from behind the counter.

            “Lydia Martin, CFA, how can I help you?”  She asked, her eyes narrowing with her calculating gaze.

            “Oh, uh.  I’m Stiles Stilinski.  I’m here to interview to be Mr. Lahey’s Personal Assistant.”  He explained, a little awestruck by the bombshell in front of him.

            “Well, he’s interviewed practically every PA in the state, but they all have something wrong with them.  This one’s too snippy, this one is a convicted felon, this one doesn’t type fast enough…”  
            “I’m fast!”  Stiles piped up, a smile on his face.  “I—“

            “I figured.”  Lydia shrugged.

            “Hey!”  Stiles frowned.  “I meant I’m a fast typist.”

            “I didn’t.”  Lydia smiled smugly.  “Are those pants a size too small?  Or does your butt just always look like that?”  
            “I—I had my wallet stolen, so I had to go thrifting for interview clothes.”  Stiles explained, face aflame with both embarrassment and anger.

            “Hmm.  If you do end up working here, I’m taking you shopping, or else banishing you to Isaac’s office, because those are not pleasantly tight pants.”  She shuddered.  “I don’t need the high def experience thanks.”

            “Well—“   Stiles opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Lydia rolling her eyes and pressing a button on her landline.  “Mr. Lahey, there’s a Stiles, whatever the hell that is, waiting on an interview with you.”

            “Right.  Send him up.”  Came a quiet reply from the phone’s speaker.

            “It’s the top floor, go.”  Lydia shooed him away, picking up a nail file and starting to file down her pinky nail.

            Stiles didn’t hesitate, immediately jogging over to the elevator.  He hopped on and quickly jammed the 23rd floors button.  It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of an elaborate frosted glass door.  Stiles’ face immediately heated when he thought of having sex with an insanely hot man behind the frosted glass doors, where all bystanders would be able to see is the movement of two beige blobs.  He shook his head, attempting to will down his straining erection.  “Craaaaap.” He sighed, before knocking quickly.

            “Come in.”  Came a surprisingly quiet answer.

            Stiles opened the door and immediately his erection faded.  The young man sitting in front of him was not unattractive in any way, shape or form.  He just seemed…young.  He had a sharply defined face with a broad jaw, but it still managed to look like a baby face, especially surrounded by soft blonde curls, and set with baby blue eyes.

            “You must be Mr. Stilinski then, right?”  Mr. Lahey asked, standing up to reveal a tall, but lanky body as he held out a pale hand.

            “Y-yeah.  You can call me Stiles though, pretty much everyone does.”  Stiles smiled brightly, shaking Lahey’s hand, surprised once again at the man’s gentle grip.  “I type, I make pretty awesome coffee, I can run errands, make copies, I’m particularly good at research…”  Stiles trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. 

            “How quickly can you type?”  Mr. Lahey asked with a sigh.

            “Umm…I don’t know that I have an exact number, but I can type somewhere around 70 words a minute.”  Stiles shrugged.  “I took touch typing classes in high school.”

            “70?”  Mr. Lahey hesitated.  “Excellent.  Do you have any references?”

            “Uh…not really.” 

            “Previous employers then?”

            “I used to walk my neighbor’s dog, but otherwise…no.”  Stiles admitted.

            “Perfect.”  Mr. Lahey nodded.  “New York is a place to find yourself isn’t it?  You can’t have the ‘old you’ dragging the new you down.”  He smiled, his face absolutely charming, but still just…too young.  “So…let’s go ahead and do this the American way then.  Bolt the door, take off your things, and lets have a taste.”  Mr. Lahey hummed as he removed his suitcoat.

            “Excuse me?”  Stiles’ eyebrows rose.  No matter what Lydia Martin, CFO said, he was not a hussy.

            “Here’s a laptop, the typing test should already be up.”  Mr. Lahey mumbled as he handed over a thick, old model of laptop, searching for a pen.  “Okay, go ahead.  I’m just here to take notes.”  He explained, holding up a pen and paper.

            “Uh…okay.”  Stiles nodded, starting the test and typing away at the keyboard.  It didn’t seem very long, but eventually, Mr. Lahey looked up.

            “Perfect!  You’re absolutely hired!”

            “Um…what?”  Stiles asked, still a little confused.

            “Let me see.”  Mr. Lahey reached for the computer and turned it to face him.  “Wonderful.  You’re sitting at 73 words per minute, you don’t do anything annoying when you type, and you don’t smell like you walked in off the streets.  You’re hired.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

 

            Scott anxiously held the top of a dish as Jennifer slipped the drug into the mashed potatoes that she had made.

            “Shh.”  Jennifer winked, a grin on her face.  “Make sure Miss Allison gets her food, okay?”  She turned her back and left the hallway, presumably to make her way downstairs to her office once again.

            Scott knocked on the door shyly, ashamed of what he was about to do to a poor, innocent girl. 

“Oh, I didn’t order anything.”  A beautiful voice sighed from the other side of the door.

When the girl opened the door though, Scott was wholly unprepared to deal with how beautiful the young woman was.  He fell short, mouth gaping open as he searched for words.  In his haste to find English words, he rooted around in the cart that held the food for something, before producing a daisy.  He held it out to her shyly, looking away a little.

“I couldn’t!”  She smiled, hooking her finger around a lock of dark hair, pulling it away from her face.

“Usted es la persona más hermosa que me he encontrado nunca.”  Scott smiled dopily, holding the flower out once again.

            “Well…if you insist.”  She smiled softly, taking the flower.  “It’s beautiful, and thank you for the room service as well.  You’re quite the gentleman.” 

            “No!”  Scott panicked.  “Veneno.”  He shook his head, trying to remember his English, before doing a crude impression of Jennifer.  “Call meh’ Jeen.” 

            “What?”  Allison asked in confusion.

            “Scott!  Come here now!”  Jennifer hollered from the end of the hallway.  “I think your mother’s on the line!”

            “Well, it looks like you should probably go talk to your mother.”  Allison smiled sadly.  “Thank you for the daisy though.  It’s beautiful.”  She smiled one more time before closing her door.

            Scott nervously made his way to the end of the hallway, stepping into a storage room where Jennifer had evidently been hiding. 

            “Do I have to do everything myself?”  She scowled, slapping Scott harshly.  “Don’t you forget who’s keeping the feds off your mom’s trail.  If it weren’t for me, you two would be going back to Puerto Rico before you could say Taco Bell.”  She took the tray from Scott.  “Think about your poor, sick mother before you fuck around next time.”  She warned, leaving the storage room and Scott.

            Scott sat down hard on a bag filled with rolls of toilet paper, thinking about his mother in a hospital a couple streets away, and the beautiful girl just a couple doors down.  It seemed like for Scott, Miss Allison was only a dream.

 

 

Jennifer made her way down the hallway, stopping at Allison’s door and knocking three times.

“Yes?”  Allison answered, confusion painted on her pretty face.

“Oh, well…I just made you a little meal to say welcome to the complex.”  Jennifer smiled, holding out the tray.  “I’d try the potatoes first.  It’s my famous recipe.  Won a blue ribbon at the county fair six years in a row.” 

“Oh, thank you.”  Allison smiled, lifting the fork to take a bit of the potatoes, but stopping as Stiles came skidding to a stop next to her in the hallway.

“Allison!  I did it!”  He squealed, hugging her tightly.  “I found a boss!  And he’s a little bit of a looker too!  His name is Isaac Lahey.” He leaned up against Allison, a dreamy look pasted on his face.  “And, he paid me a signing bonus!  You and I are going out to celebrate!”  Stiles grinned, pecking her cheek.

“And my rent?”  Jennifer asked, eyebrows raised incredulously. 

“Right here, two weeks of it.”  Stiles grinned, practically vibrating in his excitement.

“Perfect!  I’ll go get ready!”  Allison beamed, squeezing Stiles tightly, and returning to her room to get ready, just as Stiles raced down the hallway to his own room, partially skipping.

Jennifer scowled.  “Well…if at first you don’t succeed…”  She started back down the hallway to her office.  “Try again with a better drug.”

 

“We’ve been traipsing up and down Broadway for two hours.”  Allison sighed.  “I mean, I really do want to celebrate with you Stiles, but I don’t think there’s any place here that doesn’t check IDs...” 

“I’m not going home until I’m at least slightly buzzed.”  Stiles insisted, pulling out his phone and checking yelp reviews of a little place just around the corner.

“Stiles, that’s a tapas bar.  It’s not worth it to even go in there, okay?”  Allison giggled.  “You don’t really strike me as a wine drinker anyways.”

“Well…fine.  That’s it.  I don’t care if the next person to walk by is a cop.  We’ll ask the next person we see where we can get a drink, okay?”  Stiles put his foot down and crossed his arms, turning to see a familiar head of dark hair, angled face, and sexy stubble.  “Make that the next next person we see.”  Stiles nodded, turning away quickly, hoping that the guy hadn’t noticed him.

“Hick-ville?”  The man asked, a smirk on his face.  “What are you doing here?  I thought you would be headed right back to gopher-ville Ohio, or wherever you’re from.”

“Beacon.  Hills.”  Stiles gritted out, immediately turning around, missing the look of surprise on the man’s face.  “Now, if you’d excuse us—“

“Wait!”  Allison tugged on Stiles’ arm gently.  “This man looks like he may know a place.”  She suggested.

“Uuuugh.  Fine.”  Stiles groaned.  “Do you know where two twenty year olds without fake IDs can get a good drink?”

“Just so happens that you’re right around the corner from just about the best club in New York City, if you ask me.”  The stranger nodded toward the tapas bar.  “It doesn’t look like much, but if you know who to talk to, it’s more than enough for you two.”  He scoffed, looking over Allison and Stiles.

“Well then?  Who exactly do you propose we talk to?” 

“Me.”  The man shrugged.  “Sorry guys, but you have to be escorted by a member.  We don’t let people in off the street.”

“Seriously?”  Stiles groaned, leaning backward dramatically.  “Will you _please_ escort us into your stupid fancy club thing?”

“Ha, no.”  He deadpanned.  “I happen to have a date waiting for me.”

“Please?”  Allison put on a pretty little smile.  “Think of it as your good deed for the year.”

“More like the decade.”  The guy grunted.  “Fine.”  He opened the door to the tapas bar and Stiles and Allison eagerly followed him down a back hallway through a door marked employees only, into a bar full of thumping bass and sweaty, grinding bodies.

“How do the police not know this is here?”  Stiles yelled over the pounding bass.

“This is connected to the club next door.  It’s also soundproofed just enough that it sounds like it’s just the bass from another room of the club next door.”  The man hummed, leaving promptly.

Stiles held Allison’s hand, a little unsure of himself for once.  “What do you think—“ 

Allison pulled away from Stiles and boldly stepped up to an older man, pulling his drink away from him and taking a sip, giggling shyly to seduce the man.

“Jesus Christ!”  Stiles rolled his eyes, a little peeved that Allison had managed to get a drink before he had.  Stiles just went to the bar, ordering a rum and coke, something he’d heard about it movies, and figured it must taste good if he’d heard about it enough.  He looked at the drink, closed his eyes, and took a big gulp, eyes flying open at the sensation and taste of the alcohol. 

It didn’t take long for Stiles to become completely and totally hammered.  He was grinding lazily on a guy not much older than him when he caught sight of the hot stranger from earlier.  He was nipping and kissing the neck of a pretty young woman, probably about 22 or 23 years old. 

Stiles’ eyebrows drew together in distaste and he detached himself from the horny guy he’d been grinding on, making his way over toward the couple.  Stiles found himself a tall guy who’d previously been drinking his weight in beer, and dragged him over to where the stranger was starting to nip at the girl’s earlobe.  Stiles let himself fall onto the lap of the drunk man behind him, dancing much more suggestively than he had been before.  He let his hands wander up to hold behind the drunk guy’s neck, but recoiled when the uncoordinated drunk tried to slip his hands into Stiles’ pants. 

Stiles pushed the guy away, grabbing yet another guy and this time, dancing a little less suggestively, grabbing the man’s hands and pulling him toward the sexy stranger.  He casually commented on how the guy could easily snatch the sexy stranger’s girl, and let the guy do just that, jumping in to replace the girl before the sexy stranger could protest. 

Stiles fell into the sexy stranger’s lap slowly, grinding and pulling the stranger’s hands around his waist, leaning his head back to rest on the stranger’s chest as they danced.  Stiles felt the stranger start to move with him, and preened.  As they danced, they managed to get closer and closer, until finally the stranger managed to turn Stiles around, leaning forward to kiss Stiles.”

“Mmmm…Allison.  Gotta find Allison.”  Stiles slurred, putting a finger on the man’s lips.  “Later.”  He waved, ducking out quickly, searching through a blurry crowd for Allison’s dark blue dress.  “Alliso—“  He grunted as he bumped into someone.  “Hey!  Watch where you’re—oh.”  He flushed guiltily as he stared up at the tall cop.  “Um…I don’t suppose you’ve seen my friend, have you?”  He asked weakly, already offering his hands for the officer to cuff.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

 

Stiles groaned as he fell into a holding cell next to a line of other people.

“Hey, no need to be scared.” A scratchy, albeit familiar voice grunted.

“Who says I’m scared?”  Stiles turned to the sexy stranger, crossing his arms indignantly. 

“The fact that you’re pretty much shaking like the energizer bunny is pretty big giveaway.”  Sexy Stranger chuckled deep in his chest.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?”  Stiles asked curiously, peeking outside the bars at the officer minding the front desk.

“Probably just overnight.”  Sexy Stranger shrugged before leaning over.  “If you’ve got a bobby pin or something, I could get us out right now.”

“Lifetime of breaking and entering?”  Stiles asked dryly.

“More like ten years living on Long Island.”  Sexy Stranger winked.

“I hope you were serious about the whole bobby pin thing.  I have to be at work in a couple hours.”  Stiles sighed, looking around for one of the girls who had been at the club.

“Oh?  And what exactly do you do?”

            “I’m a personal assistant.”  Stiles shrugged.  “For now at least.  How about you?”

            “I guess that depends.  I guess you could say that I’m a floater.”  Sexy Stranger hummed.

            “No job then?”  Stiles asked, shaking his head.  “That’s rough, but just keep trying, you’ll get there.”

            “No, I meant that I’m kind of like a jack of all trades.”  The stranger explained.  “One day, I’ll be ushering for little kitschy wannabe broadway shows, and the next, I’ll be selling peanuts at a yankee’s game.”  He leaned forward on the bench a little.  “Beats sitting in an office all day worrying about the price of steel.  That was my old job.  Selling steel…supplies for office buildings.”

            “Like paper clips and filing cabinets?”  Stiles asked, unimpressed.

            “Yup.”  The stranger nodded, popping the p.

            “Never really pegged you as a paperclips kind of guy.”  Stiles chuckled.  “Maybe a bouncer, or a taxi driver, but not a paperclip guy.”

            “I thought you pegged me as a jerk.”  Stranger’s impressive eyebrows rose, asking a question without having to say a single word.

            “I did.  I still think you deserve better than paperclips though.”  Stiles admitted, picking at the number the cops had taped to his shirt.

            “Can I ask you a personal question, 60514?”  Sexy Stranger asked suddenly.

            “And what’s that?” Stiles asked wearily.

            “Your name?”

            “Stiles Stilinski.” 

            “Derek Smith.” 

            They shook hands, just as a cop came to the door. 

            “Stilinski.  Time for your close up.”  The cop shook a camera and a board featuring Stiles’ numbers.  “Right in front of the backdrop.  After this, we’ll be transferring you to a cell for the night.”  The man sighed, obviously tired of repeating the same speech over and over again. 

            “Well, hopefully I see you again on the other side then, Mr. Smith.”  Stiles gave a mock salute like the one Derek had given him on the day they met, before waving and rounding the corner to have his mug shot taken.

 

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            Later that night, Derek hummed thoughtfully to himself as he sat in the corner of a crowded jail cell, leaning against the bars with his eyes closed.  This new guy had really thrown him for a loop.  First, he shows up, absolutely clueless about how big city life worked.  Derek had to admit that he was kind of a jerk, but Stiles just wasn’t cut out for life in the big city.  Or so Derek had thought.  Stiles went from the farm boy in a plaid shirt and ratty tennis shoes, to a slick city boy in tight jeans and a dress shirt that stretched tantalizingly over his broad chest and shoulders.  It was a big change.  Not to mention, once Derek talked to him for a little bit, he didn’t seem so bad.  He was actually kind of…charming.  Derek caught himself thinking of dating the cheeky PA, and shook his head in confusion.  No.  Derek didn’t do “relationships.”  He was a one night kind of guy.  One night, and then off to new boys and girls, no looking back.  Not anymore.

            Derek stood, looking around for guards as he approached the lock on the cell door.  These were just holding cells, flimsy, and not exactly high security.  He smiled just the barest bit as he fiddled with the lock.  He was happy how he was, happy enough anyways.  He had a girl or boy to share his bed with every night, never had to worry about being tied down.  He was free.  He could just relax and go with the flow.  No reason to settle down.  Now that he thought about it, it was kind of a close shave.  If he had talked with Stiles any longer, he might have suggested that they meet for a date.  Then everything he had built would go straight down the drain.  He’d be expected to get a steady job, to keep in touch with his family, come home every night.  Not the life for him, especially at the tender age of twenty six.  No sir.

            Derek opened the lock and slowly slid the barred door closed.  He glanced over at Stiles’ sleeping form one last time, sighing a little without really thinking about it.  Just as he turned to leave, he heard a voice grunt from inside the cell next to Stiles’. 

            “You got it bad, dontcha’.”  An older man smiled kindly, gesturing to Stiles, who was sleeping with his mouth open, head relaxed against his shoulder.

            “Yeah…”   Derek realized, feelings of terror, panic, and excitement growing in his stomach.  “I guess I am.”  He sighed, not ready to deal with the exhaustion that such feelings brought.  He looked at Stiles one more time, feeling…something.  “I…”  He shook his head in frustration, wanting to wake Stiles up, to unlock him, and bring him back to Derek’s home…and just…be together.  Derek froze when he heard the sound of a guard approaching the cells, presumably to check on prisoners.  He took a look at Stiles, and he knew what he would inevitably end up doing.  He ran back to his cell and locked the door again, hurriedly throwing himself up against the bars of the cell, closing his eyes and relaxing like he was sleeping.

            By the time the guard left again, Derek was already asleep.

 

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            Stiles woke up to the sound of a Cop banging his baton on the bars of one of the holding cells. 

            “Come on now, everyone up.  You’ve all got to be out by six.”  The older cop sighed, nursing a cup of coffee like his life depended on it.

            “Stiles.”  Came the quiet call of a familiar voice.  “Over here.”  Stiles looked over to see Derek, not exactly smiling, but at least he wasn’t scowling. 

            Stiles hurried over to Derek.  “Hey.”  He smiled.  “What happened to breaking out last night?  Couldn’t find a bobby pin or something?”  He teased.

            “Yeah.  Pretty much.”  Derek nodded, the tips of his ears going red.  “So…I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go get some coffee?  Before you go to work, I mean.”  
            “Sorry.”  Stiles shrugged, feeling a pit in his stomach start to open.  “I barely have time to stop by my apartment and change…It wouldn’t exactly be a great first impression if the new guy was to come in late on his first day.”

            “You already look too great for them to fire you.”  Derek said before he could stop himself.  He mentally cursed, but continued talking in an attempt to repair the conversation.  “I mean…whoever you’re a PA for, they’re lucky to have you.”

            Stiles felt his stomach drop as he looked at Derek, straight in his forest green eyes.  “Thanks.”  He smiled, a little awkwardly.  “All of your odd jobs are lucky to have you too.”  He chuckled, playing it off as a joke, even if he really did mean it.   “You know what Derek?  You may not be the best with new arrivals to the big city, but deep down under all of those scowls, I think you’re a really great guide.”  Stiles turned to leave.

            “Wait.”  Derek panicked, reaching out and grabbing Stiles’ wrist.  “Why don’t you meet up with me tonight?  Maybe leave work a little early?  I have tickets to the double header Yankees game tonight.”

            “Nah, I couldn’t.”  Stiles smiled widely.  “You don’t know my fiancé…I doubt he’d appreciate me skipping out on work early.”

            “Fiancé?”  Derek asked quietly, his stomach twisting violently.

            “Well…boss.  And fiancé.”  Stiles explained.  “I’m going to marry him…my boss I mean.”

            “Oh…wow.  Love at first sight then?”  Derek asked, feeling sicker by the minute.

            “No, no…not for me.  I’m taking charge of my own destiny.”  Stiles explained.  “I decided that I’m not going to wait for the perfect job, the perfect husband, and then live the perfect life.  I’m living my life as perfect as I can, here and now.  Love doesn’t have to play a part in it for me.  It’s strictly business now.  A lot of modern marriages are, after all.”

            “Oh, well.  I guess the ballpark is out then, huh?”  Derek shrugged, eyes downcast.

            “Wait…”  Stiles felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.  “You weren’t thinking that you and I…we…you know—“

            “No!”  Derek quickly shook his head.  “Actually, I have a third ticket.  I was going to suggest you bring your friend along, the brunette…”

            “Allison?”  Stiles asked, the feeling not really getting better with the revelation.  “But then why—“ Stiles was interrupted by a large, clock ringing out the time as six o’clock.  “Crap!  I’ve got to go!”

            “Well, until tonight then?  After work?”  Derek asked nervously.

            “Yep…see you then.  At the ballpark.”  Stiles nodded, waving as he ran toward the door.  “See you tonight Derek.”  He smiled, waving one last time before slipping through the door.

 

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            Jennifer sneered as Scott fumbled with the cart of cleaning supplied he was wheeling behind her.

            “Hurry up you bumbling fool.”  She rolled her eyes.  “Catch her when she falls.”  Jennifer chuckled, holding up a heavily chloroformed cloth and gesturing to Allison’s door, where she could be heard humming softly.

            “¡No!”  Scott jumped, running to block Allison’s door. ¡Usted no puede lastimar Allison!

            “You have got to be kidding me.”  Jennifer groaned.   “You’ve falling in love with Miss Allison here, haven’t you?”  She rolled her eyes.  “Even though I’m the one who’s making sure that you and you poor mother don’t get sent back to Mexico.”  Jennifer scowled.  “You do your work, and your mother will be just fine.  You jeopardize my sacrifice?  I may just have to send a nice little letter to the department of immigration.”

            “Columbia.”  Scott frowned, crossing his arms.

            “Trust me boy, she’s not worth it.”  Jennifer rolled her eyes again.  “Now hurry up!  Get ready to catch her!!!”

            “Allison!”  A loud voice yelled from the stairwell. 

            Jennifer looked around quickly, hiding behind the cart of cleaning supplies just as Scott tucked himself into a nearby storage closet.

            “So?  What do you think?”  Stiles asked as Allison stepped out of her room.  His cheeks were flushed from running up the stairs, but he was grinning brightly as he gestured to his new clothes.  “My new friend from work, Lydia helped me pick them out.  She said she was tired of me looking like I only ever shopped at Goodwill.”

            “Stiles!  You look hot!”  Allison laughed.  “I like the shirt.”  She smoothed his collar down.  “Stripes are a nice change from all the plaid.”  She teased.

            “Jen?”  Stiles suddenly cocked his head, looking at the woman kneeling next to the cart of cleaning supplies.  “What are you doing?”

            “I’m…just cleaning!”  She smiled, scrubbing the chloroformed cloth into the ground.  “There was a nasty spot right here!  You guys really should be more careful when you bring food into the hallway.”  She chuckled tensely.

            “What are you cleaning with?  I don’t see the spot at all!  I could definitely use that if it gets stains out of clothes!”

            “It’s…”  Jennifer panicked, eyes catching a bottle of bleach.  “It’s bbbb----ooze.”  She nodded, standing up and clutching the cloth close to her.  “It’s a really old southern secret.”  She explained.  “It gets rid of pretty much any stain…people used to use moonshine, but I use Vodka…so…bye.”  Jennifer nodded, quickly running off to her office.

            Scott followed not long after, taking the cart of cleaning supplies and looking down at his hands, a flush on his face as he tried not to look at Allison.

            “Aaaaanyways.”  Allison giggled.  “Why are you all dressed up then?  Did you finally get your first date with Mr. Lahey?”

            “Well, I’ve only been working there a month, and it’s actually pretty hard to make any progress on that front, especially since Lydia said that she has a really strict anti-dating policy in the office, and she enforces it pretty hard.”  Stiles sighed. 

            “It seems like you’ve gotten something done though, right?  Where’s he taking you?”  Allison asked with a little bit of wistfulness in her voice.

            “He’s not.  Derek and I—“

            “Again?  Didn’t he take you to Central Park, Coney Island, and plenty of bars already?”  Allison winked.  “I swear, he must have a lot of friends in low places to get into all of those bars.”

            “And high.”  Stiles hummed, grinning widely. 

            “Why?  Where’s he taking you tonight?”

            “Oh, just the penthouse of famous singer-songwriter Laura Hale of course.”  Stiles beamed wickedly.  “She just got back from her world tour, and somehow Derek managed to get invitations to her welcome home party!”

            “That’s fantastic!”  Allison cheered.

            “Well…here’s the thing.  He managed to get me one extra invite for this one girl I met...” Stiles shrugged.  “No big deal.”

            “It’s official.  You’re the best human being on the earth at this moment.”  Allison squealed, pecking Stiles’ cheek and returning to her room to get dressed for a night out.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

            “Hello all my bitches!”  A semi-drunk Laura Hale grinned from atop a coffee table.  “Please enjoy the wonderful music and refreshments.  By which I mean, dance like crazy and get fuckin’ drunk.”  She cheered, disappearing into the crowd to mingle a little bit.”

            “Oh my God.”   Stiles laughed happily.  “Laura Hale just called me one of her bitches!  My life is officially complete.”   
            “Yep, it was an experience all right.”  Derek chuckled, rolling his eyes, cradling his crystal tumbler full of scotch. 

            “I don’t know how you even managed to get an invite here!  This is insane!”  Stiles exploded, looking up at the crystal skylights and elegant plants that were now being puked in by a young man who had obviously had too much to drink.  “When I marry Mr. Lahey, I’m going to have my home decorated just like this.  Elegance and glitz.  It’ll be perfect.”  Stiles sighed.

            “I—“  Derek was cut off by a shorter brunette body colliding with his.

            “Derek!  I’ve missed you soooooo much!!!”  Laura squealed, nuzzling her nose into his neck.  “The roses are looking faaaantastic.”  She beamed eyes closed as she squeezed Derek close. 

            “Roses?”  Stiles asked curiously.

            “My father used to be the gardener at her home out west.”  Derek explained, carefully peeling Laura off of his body.

            “Yep.”  Laura winked.  “Derek’s the only man I know who can grow roses like his dad.”  She hummed fondly.  “So who are your friends?” 

            “Laura, these are my friends Allison and Stiles.”  Derek nodded, gesturing to each of his friends in turn.

            “I never thought I would hear that.”  Laura chuckled quietly.  “Derek’s not exactly fantastic with people.”

            “Yeah…I noticed.”  Stiles snorted.  “We got out to a pretty rough start.”  He smiled at Derek’s guilty flush.  He shook his head.  “Anyways, it’s really nice to meet you Ms. Hale.”  Stiles held out his hand and Laura grabbed it roughly.

            “Call me Laura, please!”  She smiled pleasantly, giving the impression that she wasn’t quite as drunk as she was acting.

            “Allison?”  An older man asked as he walked by.

            “Peter!”  Allison jumped.

            “You two know each other?”  Stiles asked in confusion.

            “Oh, uh yeah.  From the orphanage I grew up in.  Come on Peter, let’s go catch up a little!”  She beamed, taking the older man’s arm and leading him away from their little group.

            “Aaaanyways.”  Laura smiled.  “Help yourself to anything.  Our home is your home!” 

            “Oh, do your parents live here?  Are they coming tonight too?”  Stiles asked in confusion.

            “Well, I guess that depends on whether or not you’re planning on having a séance.”  She hummed, taking a thoughtful sip of her drink.

            “What?”

            “Mr. and Mrs. Hale passed almost a decade ago.”  Derek clarified quietly.

            “OH!”  Stiles was completely mortified.  “I’m so sorry!  I just assumed that since you’re single…”  Stiles flushed at accidently revealing that he had kind of Google stalked her the night before.  “…and you said ‘our home…’”  Stiles buried his face in his hands, completely embarrassed. 

            “Oh no, it’s fine.”  Laura smiled kindly, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.  “My parents just always said ‘our’ house, so I just it just kind of stuck in my brain.”  Laura shrugged.  “You have a valid point.”  Laura moved to pat Stiles on the back.  “When I came here, I was kind of awestruck.  I was ready to make it in the music world, but still scared, which is why my parents came with me for the first few months.  When I got here, they told me that this wasn’t my home, it was our home, and that I shouldn’t ever forget it.  I guess I never did.”  She shrugged.  “Anyways, getting off topic.”  Laura pushed Derek aside, pulling Stiles close.  “I, personally, want to know all about you!  First you were born, and then what happened?”  Laura grinned.

            Stiles snorted, trying to contain his laughter at least long enough to answer her question.  “Well…I was born.”  He stopped for a moment, wondering what to say, eventually shrugging.  “And after that, I moved here.”

            “Saaaame!”  Laura beamed, taking another sip of her drink as Derek rolled his eyes and walked off.  “You’re looking at a Seattle home girl.” 

            “Really?  Seattle?”  
            “Not even.”  She laughed.  “Actually, I’m from Edmonds.”

            “That’s insane!”  Stiles sighed.  “I’m actually not even sure if moving here was the right choice to make!”

            “Well, I’ll tell you what Stiles—what’s your last name again?”

            “Stilinski”

            “I’ll tell you what Stiles Stilinski.  Anybody can be born in New York City.  It takes something special to move all the way out here an make it anyways.”  Laura winked.  “I think you’ve got what it takes.”  She kissed his cheek lightly.  “Now, I hate to run, but I do have to actually talk to other party guests, even though I’d much rather spend some more time with you.” 

            “It’s fine.  Thank you for talking with me in the first place.”  Stiles stammered in surprise. 

            “Don’t mention it kiddo.”  Laura winked, waving as she faded into the crowd.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

            Derek approached Laura cautiously.  “Do you think Stiles will be okay with all of these high society weirdos?”  He asked curiously.

            “I’m not talking to you.”  Laura harrumphed, turning to look away from him.

            “Why not?”  Derek rolled his eyes.

            “Once a week.  You only called me once a week, and in those calls, you talked about the weather, the shows you saw, the baseball games you went to, but you didn’t say a single word about the news of the century!?”  Laura accused, crossing her arms angrily.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Derek groused.

            “Stiles!”  Laura groaned.  “You can’t fool me here Der-bear.  I know that you’re in love with him.”  She leaned closer, pecking Derek’s cheek.  “So what are you planning to do about it?” 

            Derek opened his mouth to answer just as a screech filled the air.

            “What.   The.  Fuck!”  A skinny girl screeched at Stiles.  “First you spilled punch on my fucking $800 Coach purse, and then you decided to throw vodka on it?  What is your problem!?”

            “Uh…sorry?”  He smiled, before turning and running into the crowd once again. 

            Derek followed Stiles carefully, hoping to keep the attention off of himself as he stepped out onto the balcony to join Stiles.

            “I’m going back to California.”  Stiles groaned, laying his face in his hands.

            “Come on Stiles.  You can’t go back to California.  I thought you were starting to really get settled in New York!”  
            “I can’t stay here.”  Stiles shook his head.  “I just spilled punch on Tracy Stewart’s purse, and then tried to clean it with Vodka.

            “And why exactly did you—never mind.”  Derek shook his head.  “You’ll be the talk of the town tomorrow though.”

            Stiles stopped, turning to Derek with his eyes wide in terror.

            “No!  In a good way I mean…”  He shrugged.  “Think of all the people in the world who would just love to splash vodka all over Tracy Stewart!  They just can’t do it because they’re afraid she’ll write a bad article about them.”

            “Exactly!”  Stiles whined.  “She’s going to ruin me before I’m even worthy of being ruined!”

            “Hey!  I’ll bet she doesn’t even remember your name!”  Derek assured Stiles.

            “Really?  You think?”  Stiles visibly perked up.  “What a relief!”  He sighed, grabbing Derek’s hand and squeezing gently.  “If I had a scandal now, I’d probably lose my job.  Mr. Lahey might have—“

            “He’s just a stiff, right?”  Derek shrugged, withdrawing his hand and sticking it in his pocket.

            “Well…I guess some people would say so, but I get to see a side of him that most people don’t…”

            “While you’re sitting on his lap?”  Derek scoffed.

            “No!”  Stiles frowned.

            “Has he kissed you yet?”  Derek asked abruptly.

            “No…”

            “Does he have a pet name for you?”

            “Yes!”

            “What is it then?”

            “John.”

            “John?”

            “Yes.”  Stiles pulled his arms in defensively.

            “Well, it isn’t exactly romantic, is it?”  Derek accused.

            “Maybe not, but it’s just really…modern.”  Stiles explained.  “He calls me John because I’m efficient.  Johnny on the spot.”    

            Derek just rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.

            “Fine!  I’ll tell you a little secret.” Stiles grinned.  “This morning, Mr. Lahey was this close to popping the question.”  Stiles held up his fingers about a centimeter apart.

            “Seriously?”  Derek asked, his eyes widening a little.

            “This morning, he said ‘John…I hope you never leave...Lahey Industries.’”  Stiles proudly put his hands on his hips.

            “Beautiful.”  Derek nodded sarcastically.  “Maybe you can fit it into the vows.”

            “Another crack!”  Stiles frowned.  “Why is it that every time I mention Mr. Lahey—“

            “Can you do me a favor?”  Derek interrupted.  “It’s a really big one, since you can’t seem to stop, but can you just not talk about your plan for a moment?  If you want to marry a man who thinks of you as a computer on legs, be my guest!”

            “Well, that is the plan, and I think I will do just that!”  Stiles defended himself.  “I’m choosing reason over romance okay?  It’s something that smart people do these days!” 

            “Oh, I see…so you’re setting your sights on joining the world’s oldest profession then?  Yes, real smart Stiles.”  Derek stated dryly.

            Stiles looked at Derek, hurt in his eyes before he stiffened.  “Well, I would keep my trap shut about other people’s professions, Mr. “I used to sell paperclips.”  Stiles scowled, turning away from Derek.

            “Well then, maybe we shouldn’t speak at all.”  Derek replied harshly.  “Maybe our ‘outings’ are starting to take up time I could be using to do more _important_ things.”

            “Well!  What do I care then!  Any day now, all of my time is going to be completely consumed by my boss/fiancé!  Mr. Isaac Lahey.”  Stiles dragged the name out just to annoy Derek. 

            “Stiles, I have had it up to here with you and Mr. Lahey.”  Derek scowled taking a hold of Stiles’ bicep, forcing Stiles to look at him.

            “Well get used to it!”  Stiles shot back.  “Any day now, I’m going to be his husband!  What are you going to be butterfly boy?  Are you just going to keep flitting from flower to flower to flower?”

            “You got a problem with that?”  Derek growled.

            “Maybe I do ya’ skirt chaser!”

            “Gold digger.”  Derek shot back pettily.

            “Womanizer.”

            “Jezebel.”

            “Casanova!”  Stiles screeched, throwing up a hand in anguish, but freezing in surprise at the new development.  Derek was kissing him.  How did that happen?  It wasn’t even an angry kiss!  This kiss was…Stiles didn’t even know!  Maybe it was passionate?  Yes…but it was more than that.  It was heated, gentle, tender…loving. 

Derek’s hand found its way up to Stiles’ hair, but stopped as he pulled back.  Stiles looked at Derek’s eyes that almost seemed clouded with something, before it all faded to a mix of emotions as Derek ran off, intentionally losing himself in the crowd.

            Stiles turned back to the hustle and bustle of the city below, thoughts flying a mile a minute.  This was not the plan.  Not at all.  Derek just out of the blue kissed him!  It was out of the blue, wasn’t it?  Had Stiles’ missed the signs?  Stiles thought hard, his eyes widening as he realized that they had essentially been dating for the last three weeks.  Days at the park, seeing the occasional symphony, watching baseball games together.  Stiles felt his stomach twist at the realization.  Derek was a pretty nice guy…he could be a dick sometimes, but for the most part, he wasn’t bad…and he was handsome.  He had nice arms, and shoulders…and cute teeth.  Not to mention, that kiss…It was nothing short of amazing.  Stiles couldn’t help but think about if Derek would have stayed.  Would Derek have tried to stop Stiles?  Abandon Mr. Lahey and run away with Derek Smith instead?  Stiles went giddy with the thought.  He would do it if Derek asked.  Run away…even without the idea of riches, Derek would be enough. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

            Stiles wore a dopey smile as he climbed to stairs to his apartment, thinking about what a life with Derek could be like.  He was shocked out of his daydream by voices in the hallway.

            “But Derek…Stiles’ is my best friend…I don’t want to keep this secret from him.”  Allison sighed, looking down at her slippers.

            “Just…please Allison.  It’s all I’m asking, I promise.”  Derek replied.

            “Fine.”  Allison conceded.  “But it’s Miss Allison, okay?”  
            “Not to me.”  Derek smiled softly, kissing Allison’s cheek before heading off toward the elevator. 

 

 


	2. Act 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting to the nitty gritty of our story. Enjoy!

            Lydia stormed up to Stiles’ desk, eyes practically glowing with rage. “Stiles!  What the hell is this?”  She demanded, slapping a paper on his desk.  “We ‘insincerely’ appreciate your service? ‘Insincerely’ yours? What’s your problem?”

            “I’m sorry.”  Stiles sighed, laying his head in his hands.  “It won’t happen again.”

            “Well, if you weren’t before, you will be.  I have to write a report to Mr. Lahey about this.”  Lydia scowled. 

            “Wait! Please, don’t Lydia!” Stiles begged. “It’s not on purpose!” He groaned as the phone rang once again. He picked up quickly. “Office of Isaac Lahey, how may I help you.”  He grumbled. “Derek!  Oh my god!  Just leave me alone!”  Stiles yelled, slamming the phone down onto its receiver.

            “Personal problem?”  Lydia rolled her eyes. “Keep it professional Stiles. You know you’re here to work, not to flirt, right?”

            “I know!”  Stiles groaned just as the phone rang again.  “Derek, I have nothing to say to you!  Leave me alone!” Stiles scowled, slamming the phone down once again, sincerely tempted to beat the damn thing to pieces.

            Lydia raised an eyebrow at Stiles accusingly.  “Seriously?”

            “I’m not asking him to call, okay?   I don’t even remotely want him to call!  I never want to see Derek Smith again.”  Stiles insisted, letting his head fall into his hands.

            “Just forget about him then.”  Lydia rolled her eyes.  “Boys are never worth it. Follow my lead and get a cat.” She shrugged.  “Or a dog.  Whatever. Just get it figured out.”

            With that, Lydia left the room, leaving a tired Stiles, who most definitely did not want a cat.  He wanted Derek. That’s who he wanted. Stiles shook his head. Derek was a no good, dirty rotten cheater.  He probably did this with all of the girls and guys he dated.  If anything, he should follow Lydia’s advice and forget about him. Stiles shook his head, turning back to his computer.  He forced himself to type for a little while longer, but after about three minutes, stopped. Stiles laid his head down on the cool plastic of his desk, sighing.  His mind kept wondering to Derek.  To what his face looked like in the moonlight, all pale skin and dark stubble. Stiles closed his eyes, willing himself to forget it all, from Derek’s beautifully broad chest to his forest green eyes.  Stiles just wanted it all gone.  He stood up and walked around a bit before sitting down again.

            “Only one thing to do then.”  He mumbled aloud as he put his fingers back on the keyboard.  “If I don’t think I remember him, I won’t, right?”

            The door swung open quickly, revealing a slightly peeved Mr. Isaac Lahey.

            “Stiles, that email needed to be sent about an hour ago.” Mr. Lahey reminded him gently.

            “Oh! Right sorry…I just—“

            “It’s fine, I don’t need any excuses.”  Lahey shook his head, sitting down on the edge of Stiles’ desk. “I actually wanted to have a quick chat with you.”

            “Big problem again?”  Stiles asked, sitting up straight and grabbing a notebook to take notes.

            “Yep.” Isaac nodded, popping the p. “I need you to send a letter to the company we bought the bags from for the convention we’re hosting next month. The bags arrived, and they’re practically falling apart already.  I need you to be a little stricter on this one.  Really go after him.”  Lahey encouraged.

            “Really…go after him…”  Stiles nodded, lowering his hand from where he had been noting what Lahey was saying. “So um…Mr. L.” Stiles put a smile on his face, stopping Lahey before he could leave the room.  “Do you have a moment?”

            “Mhmm.” Lahey shrugged.

            “Could I get your opinion on something?  I read the other day in a magazine that now, people are starting to say that people are starting to really be more aggressive in their romantic pursuits. What do you think about it?” Stiles asked, attempting to lean back sexily, but just managing to fall out of his seat.  He managed to laugh it off quite awkwardly and scramble back into his seat, waiting for Lahey’s answer.

            “Well…I guess I’d have to say that I don’t really agree with that. I think that most relationships, especially romantic relationships have to be based on trust. I guess what I mean, is that if you’re going after someone in an attempt to start a romantic relationship with them, you need to show them that you’re trustworthy…like Tom Sawyer, but older.” Lahey finished, hand on his chin.

            Stiles jumped about a foot in the air when a phone rang loudly, startling Mr. Lahey out of his thoughts. 

            “I’ll get that.  It’s probably my client calling back.”  He shook his head, turning back into his office. 

            Stiles was just getting ready to get back to work when he heard a familiar voice behind him, striking him silent with anger.

            “Stiles. We need to talk about last night.”

            “In case you didn’t get my message from me slamming the receiver of my work phone in your ear every time you called and avoiding all of your texts, I’d like to pretend last night never happened, thanks.”  Stiles turned in his seat, resuming his work, eyes fixed firmly on his computer screen while his fingers tapped at the keys of his computer, maybe just a little more aggressively than was needed.

            “Come on Stiles.  You can’t be serious.” Derek growled, crossing his arms just as a flash of red stomped up to the couple in a pair of bright red stilettos.

            “Leave. Him.  Alone.”  Lydia scowled, looking Derek over before crossing her own arms.

            “What!?” Derek started before looking to Lydia’s scowl and stepping back a little.  “I mean…what lovely…shoes you have?”  He suggested, stepping back a little more when Lydia cocked her eyebrow.

            Lydia’s expression softened.  “Well, thank you.  It’s always good to meet a boy who can appreciate real fashion.” She sniffed.  “My old boyfriend Jackson always liked them though…but he was a dick and so are you, so GET OUT.”  Lydia pushed Derek back through the lobby’s front doors, not stopping until Derek was all the way outside.

            “Thanks Lyds.”  Stiles sighed, draping himself over his desk with a sigh. 

            “Well…we need to stick together, don’t we?”  She chuckled, patting Stiles on the head before returning to her own office.

            Stiles only was able to return to working for a short while, due to Allison bursting through the lobby doors and running up to Stiles, obviously a little peeved. “Okay, I know you’re at work, but I reeeeaaaaally need to talk to somebody about this!”

            “More research on your whole ‘how the other half lives’ project or whatever?” Stiles asked dryly, meaning no harm by it. “I think I got a taste of that last night.”

            “Oh, at the party?  Wasn’t it great? Or well…it was…except…” She frowned again. “Well…that guy, he was smiling, and so nice, and I reached out to shake his hand but…well, lets just say that it wasn’t my hand that he wanted to shake.”  Allison rolled her eyes.  “Trust me, he got an earful about that!”

            Stiles stood up in shock.  “Oh my God! Seriously?  I knew he was a little bit of a dick, but I didn’t think he was that bad!  And as far as you knew, you thought I was going to marry Isaac…”

            “You’re not?” Allison asked in confusion.

            “I definitely am!  Promise me Allison, we have to stick together through all of this!  We can’t let him get the best of us!  Don’t let him get between us, okay?”

            “As if Stiles.”  Allison smiled brightly. “You’re pretty much my best friend in all of New York.” 

            Stiles grinned, standing up and hugging Allison over the desk. “You’re kind of awesome, you know that, right?”

            “I know.”  Allison chuckled before pulling back a little.  “But now I’m confused…What does this have to do with my audition for David Balaski?”

            “Oh yeah!  That was this morning, wasn’t it?  How’d it go?” Stiles asked, eagerly waiting for Allison to retell her experience.

            “Well…I guess it was fine, until he…well, you know…’pounced.’” She shrugged.

            “Jeez! Him too?  I guess New York’s been putting you through the wringer.” Stiles shook his head. “I mean…I guess you are rather petite, even though I know that you could beat me up at any time.” He shrugged.   “Maybe guys think that they can take advantage of you or something because you’re not exactly as muscular looking as…say…John Cena.” Stiles sighed. “I guess you just kinda look helpless. You could always try something drastic? Maybe walking around all in leather with a whip would help.”  He suggested dryly.

            Allison rolled her eyes and bopped Stiles on the head with her umbrella. “I don’t know about that, but maybe it is time for some change…I could always cut my hair? Maybe get some new clothes or something?”  She hummed thoughtfully.

            “Stiles!” Lahey yelled from inside his office. “Can you go ahead and call ahead to that one golf course I like?  The one about an hour out of town?  Tell them I’ll be there around 6:15.”  Lahey’s voice got louder as he emerged from his office and approached Stiles’ desk. He stopped, his eyes widening when he saw Allison.  “Oh…well, who is this?” He asked, a little uncertain of himself.

            Stiles had already began to talk to whoever was on the other side of his call to the golf course, so Allison stepped up to introduce herself.

            “I’m Allison.”  She smiled brightly, ducking her head a little.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract Stiles, I just thought that since he would be on his lunch break soon, we could have lunch together.”  She explained sheepishly.

            “Oh yes, well…that’s fine.”  Isaac nodded, a small smile on his face.  “I’m Isaac Marshall Lahey the fourth.”  He held out a hand for Allison, palm facing the ceiling.

            Allison’s eyebrow cocked in confusion, but she went ahead and placed her hand in his, flushing bright red when Isaac kissed her hand gently.

            “Well, that was awfully nice of you to visit Stiles…I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask-“

            “Oh! Well, I can leave, it’s no big deal.” Allison pulled back, not wanting Stiles to get in trouble, only to be pulled back again by Isaac.

            “No!” Isaac stepped forward so he was closer to Allison.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to dinner tonight is what I was intending to say.”

            Allison flushed prettily.  “Well…I don’t know that I could say no to that.”

            Stiles hung up the phone with a sigh, having had to schmooze the owner of the golf course into letting Isaac in at 6:15, forcing another customer to switch to a later time.  “Oh! So, have you guys met? This is my best friend Allison Mr. Lahey.  She and I were just going to spend some time at that beauty parlor nearby.  Allison’s getting her hair cut.” 

            “What?” Isaac looked shocked, and even a little hurt.  “But her hair is so beautiful.”  He let his finger trace down one of the curls of dark hair framing her face.  “It’s like a halo, framing the face of an angel.” He smiled, looking down to meet Allison’s eyes.

            “We were just embracing her independent spirit, right Allison?” Stiles smiled a little weakly.

            “Forget it Stiles, I don’t think I can live in a world where I’d be so deprived of a such beautiful curls.”  Isaac drew out quietly.

            “Well…uh, Stiles, I think I’m actually going to maybe go look for some clothes to wear tonight then…I’m going to save that hair cut for a while…” She faintly blushed before waving to Stiles.  “Sorry to distract you Stiles.”  She turned to Isaac too, waving shyly.  “And I’ll see you tonight Mr. Lahey.”

            “Call me Isaac.” 

            “Okay…then see you tonight Isaac.”  She smiled, disappearing through the front door.

            Isaac turned to Stiles, leaning on his desk with a dopey smile on his face. “She was beautiful…so pretty and nice.” He sighed longingly. “And when she flushed, it was like my heart forgot how to beat.” 

            Stiles nodded.  “Hehe, yeah. She’s a really nice girl like that…” He trailed off quietly.

            “Make a reservation please.  The Plaza. Make sure that it’s the candlelit room…a back corner table for two.  And flowers! I can’t forget the flowers.” Isaac nodded, a determined look on his face. 

            “There’s a florist right around the corner from the hotel.” Stiles comment, his voice quiet as he tried to calm the emotions flooding his system.

            “Perfect.” Isaac nodded.  “I need two dozen roses…pink!”  He beamed, jogging toward his office door before stopping. “Make sure they’re long stemmed, and nice and plump.”  He reminded Stiles before stepping into his office, only to step out again a moment later.   “Oh!  And cancel my golf appointment…I need to have time to prepare for my date.”  He chuckled before ducking back into his office.

            Stiles felt his stomach sink lower and lower as he processed what had just happened. He slunk off of his chair and under the desk, feeling dumber by the second.  He curled in on himself, tucking his face into his arms and letting his tears fall.

            Three quick raps sounded on the window next to Stiles’ desk.

            Stiles shot up out from under his desk, banging his head on the underside. He rubbed at the now sore spot as he approached the window. 

            “Oh my God, you didn’t.”  Stiles groaned when he saw Derek’s face.  “I know that we’re only like three stories up, but seriously?  You could still hurt yourself up even that high.”

            “Well, it’s the only way I could talk to you.  Miss high heels down there has every door practically barricaded.” Derek frowned. “She said you never wanted to see me again.”

            “Well, that’d be because that’s what I told her.”  Stiles shook his head, reaching to shut the window.

            “Take it back then.”  Derek insisted.

            “No.” Stiles shook his head, crossing his arms.

            “I’ll jump!”  Derek threatened.

            Stiles frantically reached out before pulling his arms back in. “That’s not funny Derek. It’s not a joke. I am not in the mood for this, okay? It’s been pretty much the worst day ever.”

            “Can I help?”  Derek asked as he sat down as best he could on the window sill.

            “Well, I don’t know.  Do you need a personal assistant?”  Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning against the window sill from his side of the window. “I’m quitting my job. Mr. Lahey isn’t available anymore.”

            Derek looked away, not able to contain the small smile that came across his face.

            “Yeah, he ended up hitting it off with-“ Stiles stopped for a moment, assessing Derek’s smile.  “Actually, he ended up hitting it off with a mutual friend of ours.”

            “Miss Allison?” Derek asked, at least attempting to look surprised. “Well, I’ll be-“

            “An asshole.”  Stiles frowned, upset that Derek was taking joy from his pain.  “You know what though?  I don’t blame her. I don’t blame Mr. Lahey either.” Stiles shrugged. “They can’t control who they’re attracted to after all.”  He looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.  “Not to mention, I’m too young to live a life of hate.”

            “True.” Derek nodded in agreement. “So let’s kiss and make up.”

            Stiles gave Derek an incredulous look.

            “Or at least make up then?  Maybe our kissing wasn’t such a great idea.”  Derek deflated a little.

            “Or maybe you prefer kissing Allison.”  Stiles scowled, crossing his arms and turning away from where Derek was sitting.

            “What are you talking about?”  Derek asked, having the gall to look genuinely confused.

            “I may have had a little too much Champaign, but I saw you leaving her apartment Derek.”  Stiles accused.

            “What exactly did you think we were doing?”  Derek asked as Stiles turned to face him defiantly.

            “Oh yes, I can’t _possibly_ imagine what you two could have been doing behind locked doors where you would be leaving her apartment so late.”  Stiles rolled his eyes.  “Not that I need to imagine, since Allison told me _everything_.”

            “Stiles, I think you got your wires crossed.”  Derek groaned.  “Yes, I was at her apartment last night, but I just needed to talk to somebody, okay?”

            “Oh yes, I’m sure that you two had a very intimate conversation indeed.” Stiles commented dryly.

            “You know what?  Yeah, it was.” Derek shook his head. “I’ve just been having trouble understanding what’s going on Stiles.  I met you and everything went kind of crazy.”  He was silent for a moment.  “For example, what am I doing right now?  I’m on the third story of an office building in New York trying to talk to you.”

            “Good question, but how about you answer it inside, you’re kind of making me nervous.”

            “Nah, I think I’ll stay out here, I love the view.”  Derek gestured to the dumpsters in front of him, face completely neutral.

            “You’re not serious are you?”  Stiles cocked an eyebrow.

            “Okay, well, no.  But have you ever been to the top of this building?  All the way up to Mr. Lahey’s father’s office?”  Derek asked.

            “Yeah? Why’s that?”  Stiles asked, obvious confusion on his face.

            “Well, when you’re up there, the world looks different.  You can see so many little people, the size of ants. They’re all rushing around, buying groceries, getting to work, you name it.”  He sighed.  “It gives you a little perspective.  I mean, think about it.  Any two people down there could be just like you and me.  We used to be complete strangers Stiles.”

            “Yeah, and then we met…”  Stiles frowned, wondering what Derek was trying to get at.

            “But then I met you!”  Derek beamed, reaching through the window to tap Stiles’ shoulder.  “I saw this dopey looking kid on the street running around like a chicken with its head cut off, and I think from the first time I saw you, at least a little part of me knew that you were special.  Most people would have just panicked and called the police, or cried, or gone home, but you decided to trip someone…who does that?”

            “I do.”  Stiles smiled just a little.

            “I know!  And it’s part of what makes you so amazing.  I don’t know how you tick Stiles.  You don’t follow the rules, and I love it…I love you…”  Derek admitted.

            Stiles flushed and bit his lip, putting  his hands on the window sill.  He climbed up next to Derek.  “I guess we don’t have a great view, but we can at least pretend, right?” He suggested quietly.

            Derek smiled, taking Stiles’ hand in his own and then quickly flinging an arm across Stiles’ stomach and pretending to push him off the ledge, making Stiles jump and laugh.  “Go to dinner with me?” He asked, putting just a little pressure on Stiles, pretending to threaten him.

            “Okay!” Stiles laughed, pushing back against Derek and away from the ledge.  “Jeeze! Pushy much?”

            “We’ll go somewhere fancy?  Okay?” Derek suggested, a sparkle in his eyes. “How about The Plaza Restaurant? I heard that Laura Hale is performing there tonight, so no time like the present, right?”

            “Okay, but only if we both treat.”  Stiles insisted. 

“But I’m the one who asked you to dinner.”  Derek countered.

“We’ll pool our money, and have a really big, fancy meal.  If we don’t eat for a month after that, who cares!”  Stiles laughed.  “Please?”

“Okay.” Derek smiled after a moment of not so thoughtful deliberation.

Stiles smiled back, feeling his heart beat frantically as Derek started to lean in. Stiles had just decided to close the distance between them when a loud noise jolted both Stiles and Derek apart.

“Stiles!” Lahey yelled from inside his office.

“Pick me up at seven?” Stiles asked, a small smiled still on his face, even though the moment was practically gone.

“Yeah.” Derek nodded.  “I’ll see you at seven.”

            Stiles waved at Derek as the older man snuck off to the side to begin his journey back to the ground.  Stiles ducked inside, a small smile on his face for the rest of the work day.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Scott put his book down in frustration, taking a deep breath in, and out.  He picked up the book once more and attempted it one more time.

            “I…love you…Miss Allison.”  He managed in halted English, a smile beginning to grow on his face.  “I love you Miss Allison.”  He repeated, more confidently, pride in his heart.  “I love Miss Allison.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Jennifer eyed the pink roses with a greedy eye when they arrived at the front desk. “Ah yes, beautiful. A dozen for Miss Allsion here, and a dozen for Miss Jennifer Blake.”  She giggled, setting the roses in a vase in her back room.  “Scott!”  She barked, gesturing to Scott who had been peeking through her Spanish-English dictionary again.

            “Yes?” Scott asked, his accent heavy.

            “Oh my God, give it up!”  Jennifer rolled her eyes.  “You’re just not smart enough to speak English Scott.”  She sighed, pulling out a syringe of chloroform.  “Help me now.  I need to inject this into all of the flowers so that the moment Allison gives these a sniff, BAM.  Out like a light, and down to the cellar.” 

            “Do not…hurt Miss Allison.”  Scott frowned.

            “Oh my dear boy.  Do we need to discuss this again?”  Jennifer sighed. “If you can’t behave, I may just have to stop helping you hide your poor ailing mother from the government.” She clicked her tongue. “Not to mention, you don’t exactly have passport either, do you my dear Scott.”

            Scott was silent, his eyes falling.

            “There we are Scott!  Now, do as I said, and start injecting these roses.”  She handed Scott the syringe and turned on her heel, leaving Scott to start his job, a frown on his handsome face.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            “When you said that we’d probably get to hear Laura Hale sing, I didn’t think you meant from the kitchen.”  Stiles sighed, scrubbing hard at a pan. 

            “Well, everyone comes up short now and then, right?”  Derek shrugged.  “It’s not like this is how I wanted this evening to end either.”

            “You sure about that?”  Stiles asked dryly.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”  Derek frowned, scrubbing at his own set of dirty dishes.

            “Well, when you wanna see your kitschy little Broadway shows, you usher for the night. When you want to see a Yankees game, you’re selling peanuts.”  Stiles shrugged. “Is this how you get your fancy fish eggs then?”

            “I said that I would ask Laura to front us a little, okay?” Derek defended.

            “She’s a little busy right now, if you hadn’t noticed.”  Stiles rolled his eyes.  “Not to mention, even if she loaned us some money, it isn’t like we could easily pay her back.  I’m going to be eating ramen noodles until I get another paycheck.  Not to mention you—never mind.”  Stiles shook his head.

            “What?” Derek frowned again, looking up from his dirty dish water.  “Go on.”

            “You missed a spot.”  An angry looking chef grunted, handing a plate back to Derek.

            Derek put the plate back in the water, scrubbing at the dirty spot. They were silent for a second, but Derek broke the silence.  “Jeez. Where’s the vodka when you need it.” He sighed under his breath, a small smile on his face.

            “I think I’ll stick to lemon juice thanks.”  Stiles flushed, not looking up from his work. “My mom always swore by it.” Stiles’ stomach dropped at the thought of his mother, which led to thoughts of his father, the deputies, the neighbors…he was getting homesick.  Stiles doubled over the sink, a soapy hand over his mouth.  “Derek, I gotta’ go.  This isn’t right…we’re not…right for each other.”   Stiles gasped, flinging down the sponge in his free hand and sprinting out of the kitchen.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Laura Hale was just coming off the small stage set in her restaurant. It wasn’t huge and it wasn’t super fancy, but it was exclusive.  Not just anyone got dinner and a show from Laura Hale.  She sat down hard on her sofa, chugging water and dabbing sweat off of her neck.

            “Laura, you’ve got a visitor.”  A blonde with a bright red smile beamed from around the door frame.

            “Really? Between sets?” Laura asked.

            The blonde nodded in confirmation.  “I think this is a visitor you’ll really want to take too.  He’s a real cutie.”  She winked.

            “Thanks Erica, send him on in then.”  Laura nodded, starting to settle into the couch a little more.

            Stiles anxiously stepped into the room.

            “Oh my God!  Stiles!” Laura squealed, immediately on her feet to hug him.  “Why are you looking like such a Depression Danny?” 

            “Well, I came here for dinner for two and ended up with dishes for two hundred.” Stiles chuckled, hugging Laura back. “And Depression Danny? Really?  I don’t care if you call me a Negative Nelly.”

            “Eh, that’s too boring for me.”  Laura waved it off, a smile still on her face.  “So let me guess then.  Derek?”

            “Yeah.” Stiles admitted with a sigh. “And for a minute, it almost seemed fun. A night, yes, but a whole lifetime of it? I may be a working class man, but I’m not out for a life of working extra just to be able to eat somewhere like here. I want to be able to pay for this without having to dishes.  I want to see Broadway shows without having to usher for them.”

            “Who says that there’s anything wrong with that?”  Laura asked.  “That was me for a while there Stiles.  I’m only…what, seven, eight years older than you?”

            “Nine.” Stiles smiled. “You’re twenty-nine, I’m twenty.”

            “Ugh I feel old.”  Laura groaned. “Anyways, nine years ago, I was you Stiles.  I was working extra hours to be able to afford my networking options.  I was doing hemorrhoid commercials Stiles.  I sang about hemorrhoids!”  She chuckled.  “There’s no shame in doing what you have to do.”

            “Yeah, but your family was already rich, right?”  Stiles bitterly sighed, crossing his arms. “I’m going to marry into one of those families.  That’s my plan, and this time, I’m going to stick to it!”

            “Right, Derek told me about your plan.  You want to get married to a rich man.  Love has nothing to do with it?”

            “Nope. Love is not for me.” Stiles shook his head adamantly.

            Laura groaned.  “Stiles, you don’t get it, okay?  I’m going to tell you a little story about my dad, okay?  Sit down.”

            Stiles looked at Laura weirdly.

            “I said sit down.”  Laura rolled her eyes, pushing Stiles onto the couch.  “When my dad met my mom, he thought that she was just a secretary at her office. He had no idea she was rich. He was just an art teacher, and in his eyes, she was just a secretary, but they loved each other. A lot.  They got engaged pretty quickly, and as a present for his birthday, my mom gave him this beautiful watch.  It was gold plated with little crystals around the edges. My dad went to a bar one night with a friend of his and a guy at the bar recognized it as some sort of really expensive, diamond encrusted gold watch.  My dad, unfortunately, thought immediately that my mom must have stolen it from someone or something, so he rushed home and begged her to take it back and to stay away from whatever life of crime he fabricated for her. My mom just laughed and explained to him that she owned the company he thought she worked for. Needless to say, in this situation, diamonds were of course preferable over crystals, but you know what my dad always told me?  He always said ‘I loved the diamonds, but we could have made it on the crystals. It didn’t matter that my mom was rich. My dad was willing to marry her as a secretary with no money.  That didn’t change when he learned she was rich.”

            Stiles was silent for a little while, thinking.  “That’s kind of beautiful.”  He admitted quietly, thinking of his own parents and how much they had always loved each other.

            “If you’re thinking about getting married Stiles, love has _everything_ to do with it.”  Laura smiled softly, running a hand over Stiles’ head.

            Stiles smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Erica peeking her head in.

            “Laura, you’re on in two.  I can’t give you any more time.”  She shrugged apologetically.

            “Okay, I’ll be right out then.”  Laura nodded, standing up and winking at Stiles.

            “Break a leg.”  Stiles sighed as Laura left, standing to make his way into the dining room.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------          

 

            Isaac Lahey was slumped over a table, sighing quietly as he looked forlornly t the couple at the table next to his.

            “Excuse me sir, but I think that’s probably the fiftieth time you’ve sighed! We are trying to celebrate our anniversary here, and you are kind of ruining it young man.”   An older lady with a face full of makeup scolded him.

            “Oh, my apologies.”  Isaac rolled his eyes before sighing again, as loudly as possible.  “How long have you two been together then?

            “Thirty-eight years.”  The woman answered primly, just as the man answered.

            “Thirty…eight…years.” He drew out a little depressingly.

            “Beautiful.” Isaac nodded, before leaning over his table once again and beginning to sigh loudly.

            “Sir! I must say—“

            “Forget it ma’am, just forget it.”  Isaac groaned, laughing a little internally as the proper old bag stood up and dragged her husband out of the restaurant. 

            Stiles was hurrying out of the Plaza when he spotted Isaac draped over a table.

            “Mr. Lahey?  What are you doing here? You look kind of awful…” Stiles admitted, looking over Isaac. “Are you drunk?”

            “I don’t drink, but Stiles…she stood me up…I can’t believe that she stood me up.” He groaned pitifully.

            “Allison did?”  Stiles asked in confusion. “That makes no sense…maybe she just fell asleep or something.”

            “No…I went to pick her up, and the lady at the front desk said that she had checked out.  She didn’t even leave a forwarding address or anything.”  Isaac groaned.  “She was so disgusted by me that she had to leave town.”

            “Stiles?” A familiar voice asked. “Oh!  You didn’t leave then?  I was looking for you.”  Derek smiled.

            Stiles hugged Derek tightly.  “I was looking for you too, I’m sorry, but we need to find Allison. Mr. Lahey said that she checked out without even a forwarding address...”

            “That doesn’t sound like Allison.”  Derek’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “Do many tenants do that there?”

            “No…but on the day I was there, another girl checked out all of a sudden, there one day, gone the next.  She didn’t leave a forwarding address either.”

            “What did Allison and that other girl have in common?  Worldly possessions or something?”  Lahey asked, standing up.

            “No, the other girl was pretty much broke from what I heard around the building. She was an orphan without—wait…she didn’t have any family waiting for her to write or anything…just like Allison…”

            “But Allison isn’t alone, she has us.”  Derek pointed out.

            “Yes, but she didn’t have any family that Jen knew of…wait, what if it’s Jen behind this?  She specifically asked when we signed our leases whether we had any family that might be able to visit us…” Stiles worried his lip, now pacing around the restaurant.

            “The sacrifices!” Isaac stopped dead. “What if Jen is behind the sacrifices then!  When’s the last time you saw Allison?” 

            “Well, I knocked on her door after work, but she didn’t answer, so I thought she was napping.”  Stiles panicked, wondering if he should have noticed that something may have been wrong.

            “More like kid-napping.”  Derek grumbled under his breath.

            Stiles stopped for a moment and looked at Derek incredulously. “I fucking love you.” He kissed Derek full on the mouth.

            Derek wobbled a little, his cheeks flushed.  “Well, I think I’ll call the police then…”

            “Wait!” Lahey interjected. “We can’t do anything to make Jen suspicious.  We need to get someone to act like the perfect kidnap-able young girl.  We need to get inside Jen’s operation.”

            “Well, I don’t think that we could pass for the new girl in town, and she already knows Stiles.”  Derek frowned.

            Stiles sputtered.  “Um, excuse me? I am the epitome of manliness thanks.”

            Derek scoffed.  “You know you sound like…” He paused.

            “Sound like who?”

            “Laura.” Derek’s eyes widened. “She can be our new girl.” He dashed off, Stiles and Isaac following him.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Laura walked into the lobby of the apartment complex casually, pulling a large suitcase behind her.  She walked up to the front desk and rang the bell there a couple times.

            “Coming.” Came a muffled reply.

            Laura rang a couple extra times for good measure.

            “I said I’m coming!”  Jennifer scowled as she entered the lobby, walking up to the front desk in her pajamas. “How can I help you miss—ma’am?”

            “Oh, sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you up.”  Laura smiled widely.

            “At 3am?”  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Why in the world would I have been sleeping?”  She yawned. “So what do you want?”

            “I saw that there was a vacant apartment here.  I was hoping to stay here.”  Laura shrugged, still smiling widely.

            “You do know that this is _young_ adult housing, right?”  Jennifer asked.

            “Yes. I’m only eighteen…” Laura provided.

            “Well, suit yourself.  We just had an apartment open up actually.”  Jennifer shrugged, reaching under the desk to pull out paperwork.

            “Oh! Perfect!”  Laura squealed.  “I can’t wait to start making friends here!  I don’t really know anyone in New York…or anyone at all really. Of course I know the nuns at the group home, but that’s just about it…” 

            Jennifer was smiling when she stood up with the papers.  “That’s so sad…of course that must have been years ago though, right?” 

            “No, I came straight here.  I’ve always wanted to act on Broadway.”  Laura beamed.

            “Did you walk?”  Jennifer asked, before shaking her head.  “Oh well. Can you go ahead and sign here then?”

            Laura leaned over signing her fabricated name on the dotted line.

            “Coralynn Talia Schpippen?”  Jennifer asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Oh, it’s Swedish.”  Laura explained, still smiling like a champ.

            “Well, that’s nice.”  Jennifer smiled back. “How about before you go up to get settled in your room, we have a nice cup of coffee, I’m sure you’ll be up all night unpacking, right?”  Jennifer offered, opening the door to her office.

            “That’s so nice!  I’d love to!” Laura beamed, walking in the door confidently.

            “Well…this one might not give me a ton of juice, but she might just be the little push I need to make it all the way there.”  Jennifer mumbled to herself as she went about putting the desk back in order a little.

            “You coming?”  Laura asked, peeking her head out around the corner.

            “Yes!” Jennifer jumped, quickly ducking into the office with Laura.

 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Stiles, Derek, and Isaac all snuck into the lobby of the apartment complex quietly, sneaking down the stairs into the basement.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

            Allison woke up slowly, her surroundings coming into a blurry focus.

            “Wha-? Why am I in a cleaning cart?” She looked behind her to see a tanned, handsome face with dark curls and a crooked jaw. Allison jumped. “What’s going on? I don’t—“

            Scott stopped the cart, putting a finger to his lips.  He pulled out a newspaper,  setting it in front of Allison and pointing at a police search add for someone by the name of Julia Baccari.

            “Who even is that?”  Allison asked, severely confused as to why Scott was showing her the article.

            “Jen.” Scott said quietly.

            “Wow…she definitely needs a new headshot…but why are the police looking for her?” Allison asked, sitting up straight.

            Scott flipped through the newspaper’s pages until he reached an article about the recent ceremonious murders that had been discovered around New York.

            “It’s been determined that the murders of several young women around New York City have been part of an occult ceremony?”  Allison read, going pale.  “Jennifer Blake wants to kill me?  Oh not, I am not here to deal with this shit!” Allison jumped up from the cart, but Scott grabbed her arm, shushing her frantically.

            “I…I will help you.”  He stuttered, reading a note scrawled in the margin of the dictionary he had snatched from Jennifer.

            Allison paused, looking over Scott’s earnest face.  “Gracias Sr. McCall.”  She smiled, glancing at his name tag.

            “Scott.” He smiled back, a flush across his face.

            “Scott…thanks.” Allison nodded. “Oh!  She’s coming, hide me!”  Allison dove back into the cart and Scott quickly piled the unused rags on top of her.

            “Scott?” Jennifer asked in confusion. “I thought I had already asked you to go get me my ceremonial knives…where are they?”

            Scott put a hand to his ear and feigned ignorance.

            “You, get my knife.”  Jennifer mimed out before pulling out her phone to use Google translate.  “¡Usted consigue mi cuchillo!”

            Scott jumped, but ran off to do as she said.

            Jennifer sat on the box Laura was resting on.  “Today I get almost twice the energy I usually get…this should be the last sacrifice I have to make.”  She hummed happily.  “What a dumb name though, Coralynn Talia Schpippen?  Ugh.  Sounds like she was born in the fourties.”  Jennifer sighed, but stopped for a second.  “Wait…Coralynn…Talia…Aren’t those two of the Hales?” She stood up quickly, lifting the lid on the box Laura’s body was in.  “Laura Hale.”  Jennifer groaned.

            “Nice to meet you.  You a fan?” Laura asked coyly.

            “Ugh, I liked you better when you were a nobody with rich parents.” Jennifer scowled.

            “What? Wait…”  Laura leaned in.  “Oh my God. You’re Julie Baccari, aren’t you! You’re that girl who used to date Kali, but got in trouble when they found out that you were using her for networking purposes…jeez, the years have not been kind to you.” Laura laughed.

            “I was too good for your dumb little choir anyways.”  Jen scoffed.

            “I have your little operation figured out now.  You’re going to go to jail for a very long time Julia.” Laura sighed.

            “My name is Jennifer.”  She growled. “And you have no proof.”

            “Really now?  You put me in a box after trying to hit me with chloroform.”  Laura rolled her eyes.

            “Yeah? Well, we’re a budget apartment complex okay?  You can’t get everything you want here.”  She laughed, a high pitched annoying sound.  “Besides, who are you going to tell in the next thirty minutes.  After that, you’ll be dead.”  She shrugged.

            “And you don’t think that the disappearance of international idol Laura Hale will be noticed by anyone?”  Laura asked, a coy smile taking residence on her face.

            “Laura Hale?  No, I haven’t seen her! I had a Coralynn Talia Schpippen check in and check out, but no Laura Hale!”  Jennifer played up her southern accent to a point where it wasn’t charming anymore. “That Coralynn girl was such a restless young one, she was just like all those other girls, orphans, every one of em’, nobody misses em’ when they go missing.  Of course I don’t have to tell you, the other girls can when you meet with their restless souls in purgatory forever.”  Jennifer laughed again.

            “Read that back to me Stiles!”  Isaac stood up and Stiles popped out of the nearby extra cleaning cart.

            “Laura Hale?  No, I haven’t seen her! I had a Coralynn Talia Schpippen check in and check out, but no Laura Hale!  That Coralynn girl was such a restless young one, she was just like all those other girls, orphans, every one of em’, nobody misses em’ when they go missing. Of course I don’t have to tell you, the other girls can when you meet with their restless souls in purgatory forever.” Stiles read back flawlessly, a smug smirk on his face.

            Derek stood up from his hiding place behind Stile’s cart.  “Give it up Jen, it’s over.”

            “You may have eavesdropped on me, but it’s all hearsay, it’s inadmissible. Where’s the real proof?” Jen smirked, arms crossed across her chest. 

            “Here.” Scott piped up, handing Jennifer’s knives to Derek.  “And here.” Scott opened the door to the room that Jennifer used to prep her sacrifices.

            “Scott! How dare you!  I’m the one paying your mother’s hospital bills, and the one keeping you from being deported!  You can’t do this to me!”  Jennifer scowled, eyebrows drawing together.

            “I was born in New Mexico.”  Scott managed to get out.  “And my mother passed the citizen test a week ago.”  Scott smiled his crooked smile.  “I will pay her bills now.”

            “What?” Jennifer frowned, panic making its way onto her face.

            “Tell us where Allison is, now.”  Derek said quietly and calmly. 

            “Derek, I’m right here.”  Allison hollered, coming down the stairs to stand right next to Scott, linking her fingers with Scotts’.

            “Allison? I’m so glad that you’re okay!” Isaac beamed, stepping forward for a moment, only to step back again when Allison put a hand up.

            “Isaac…I’m sorry, but I don’t think we would have worked out anyways...” Allison smiled apologetically. “Scott and I, well…” She flushed.

            “I love Allison.”  Scott piped up, happy to use the English he knew in context.

            Isaac stepped back, a little hurt.

            “It’s okay buddy, I think I have the perfect girl for you…have you ever met my sister Cora?”  Laura asked with a smile, putting an arm around Isaac’s shoulders.

            “Crap, grab her!”  Stiles jumped, pointing at Jennifer. 

            “It’s fine, we’ve got her.”  A tall man called from the top of the stairs, his large arms crossed.

            “You called the police?”  Stiles asked Derek in confusion.

            “No, I did.  Thank you officer Boyd.” Allison smiled. “Everything’s all settled.”

            “Well…since everything is settled, I guess it’s do or die time.” Derek grunted, settling down to one knee in front of Stiles.  He pulled out a red velvet box.  “Stiles…will you marry me?”  He asked quietly.

            “Derek!” Stiles jumped about a foot in the air. “But, I mean…” Stiles let his hands fall to his sides, for once not moving about with every word he said.  “Yes…”

            “Poor as I am?”  Derek asked, eyes intense.

            “Poor as _we_ are.”  Stiles nodded.  “Because like someone once told me, if I’m thinking about marriage, love has everything to do with it, right Laura?”

            “Hallelujah!” Laura rolled her eyes. “Take off the fucking mask now Derek, it’s kind of killing me.”

            “Mask?” Stiles asked in confusion.

            “I’m Derek Edward Hale the third, the vice president of Hale Steelworkers” Derek admitted sheepishly.

            “Wait, Hale as in Laura Hale?”  Stiles asked, dumbfounded.

            “Yep…He’s my baby brother.”  Laura beamed, attempting to give Derek, who was at least half a foot taller than her, a noogie.

            “Wait, so everything was a lie then?  The paperclips thing, being poor?”  Stiles asked, stepping back a little.

            “Well, it wasn’t that far from the truth.”  Allison stepped up a little to put an arm around Laura.  “The family fortune was founded in steel after all.”

            “Wait, who are you then?”  Stiles asked, starting to feel a little overwhelmed.

            “I’m their cousin, well kind of anyways.”  Allison flushed a little.  “After my mom and dad split up, my dad kind of married their uncle.”  She explained.

            “Yep. Allison was attractive every fortune hunter’s gaze and she just couldn’t get away from them, while Derek he was basically drinking everything in sight and having sex with anything that had a hole.”  Laura explained, making the entire room, including Scott flush.  “So my mom sent them into New York with about 500$ and told them to get their shit together, find some lovers, and settle down, becoming baby-making machines for the rest of their days.”

            “She had the bare bones of it in there somewhere, I think.” Derek admitted.

            “Well, looks like Mom had a good idea, because here you two are with two very sweet partners.”  Laura smiled, a little more tame for once.

            “Well, this is awkward.”  Isaac chuckled. “You see, Derek’s Mom owns my business…I didn’t even recognize you…must be the beard.”  Isaac smiled, holding out a hand to shake Derek’s hand and then Stiles’ hand.  “Congratulations Stiles.” He turned to leave but almost ran into Allison.  He looked at her awkwardly for a moment.  “Eyep.” He nodded, walking past to go up the stairs, a smile on his face.

            “See Stiles, you can marry your boss after all, huh?” Laura laughed.

            “Who cares…I guess you could say that I found my crystal watch love.” Stiles beamed.

            Derek smiled widely at Stiles, eyes sparkling with the thought of years to come by Stiles’ side.  “Well, I’d say that I found myself a diamond.” 

 

 

 

           

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I really hope you enjoyed this if you read it! I didn't really think anyone had any interest in it so I kind of slowed down the work on it, but I got a comment asking me for the next chapter and it really really spurred me to hurry up and get this out there for anyone who wants to read it! So thanks to anyone who read it, and if you could leave a review or even kudos, that'd be fantastic, and also kind of important for me, as I've really been slowing down on posting and writing fanfictions, so I really want to know if people want me to write more! 
> 
> Anyways, hopefully you enjoyed! :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, sorry if this isn't super polished, I just wanted to make sure that I got it uploaded before I left for vacation, or else it would be floating around at the back of my head the entire time I was away from my computer!!!
> 
> P.S. I'm really sorry to all the Spanish speakers out there, but I don't speak a smidge of Spanish, so I used a pretty sketchy translator. Sorry if it says something completely stupid, but I tried to make it a little easier to understand via context. :)


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